


Intrigue

by cissues



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hannibal is a bartender, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Will is probably an alcoholic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissues/pseuds/cissues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has been going to The Red Dragon for almost a year, partly for the convenient alcohol, partly because of the dreamy European bartender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intrigue

**Author's Note:**

> YEP. ANOTHER BARTENDER AU. But this time it's Hannibal so it doesn't count. Leave me alone. I don't have any creative spark. Also here's some porn. It's not very good but I tried.

Will is in a constant state of awe while drinking at _The Red Dragon_. The hot European bartender worked magic at the counter, performing complicated tricks with the delicate bottles of liquor, procuring elixirs of the Gods with little effort. Will had originally started going to the bar to keep himself from being perpetually anxious, but now he goes to watch the show. And for the marvelous booze.

“He is sort of magnificent.” Beverly muttered from within her glass. Alana nodded in agreement, both pairs of eyes fixed on the bartender as he grinned charmingly at a group of ladies, serving them his glorious drinks.  
“It’s not even fair.” Will responded finally, tearing his eyes away from flexing forearms and provocative clavicle revealed cheekily from behind a single undone button. Jesus, people weren’t allowed to be that attractive.

“Don’t worry, Will. He’s obviously an alien. No one can be both that hot and that talented.” Beverly patted his hand comfortingly. Will felt patronized but that was pretty average for a night out with Beverly.

The three sat at the bar sipping at their drinks for the next hour before Alana said she had to work in the morning and Beverly mumbled something about being too drunk and stumbling off. Will didn’t notice how alone he was until other patrons started filtering out and he and only the saddest of alcoholics were left.

Will lived a convenient three blocks from the bar, having taken this as a sign from the Gods long ago that he was meant to self-medicate with alcohol as often as his paycheck allowed. This also meant that he was able to stay until closing and still make it home unscathed. He still carried a pocket knife just in case. Sometimes it pays to be paranoid.

Through the haze of his rum and cokes, Will noticed that there was a presence before him. His brain supplied the choir as his eyes focused on Hot European Bartender.

“Will, is it?” The bartender asked and Will had to keep himself from making some embarrassing noises as the man refilled his glass. “Yep. Short for William. William Graham. Will Graham.” He cursed himself under his breath, missing the way the bartender smiled at him.

“Hannibal Lecter.” The bartender responded and it took Will a moment to realize that the man was introducing himself, not naming the drink he was handing over. Will nodded, unfocused eyes trained on Hannibal’s jawline. He shivered.  
“That’s an interesting name. Where’s it come from?” He asked, speech slurring. He wouldn’t say that he was blasted, but he definitely wasn’t tipsy anymore.  
“Lithuania. I was born and raised there until I left to come here when I was twenty two.” Hannibal informs Will like he’s reading from a book. There’s scars in those words that Will has no desire to reopen.  
“And you decided to become a bartender?” Will asked, sipping from his drink as if to punctuate the sentence but ended up slopping a little of the liquid onto the counter. He wasn’t very good at communication.  
Hannibal didn’t seem bothered, his smile unwavering as he wiped up the mess. “I sort of just fell into it. It’s fulfills my needs. I originally wanted to become a psychiatrist, but this is the next best thing in my opinion.”  
Will laughs perhaps a little too loud; his experience with psychiatrists have been marginally worse than his experience with bartenders, but he had to admit that the meat of the two occupations were essentially the same.

“Will, just so you know, the bar has been closed for half an hour.”

Will glanced around to confirm that yeah, no one else was here. Hannibal was suddenly not behind the bar, walking around to collect glasses and wipe up residue. Will decided that he very much liked Hannibal’s lower half.

“Then why am I still here?”

Hannibal’s gaze fell on Will, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re a curiosity. Also, you seem as if you needed some extra time at the bar.”  
Will snorted but didn’t deny it.

He watched as Hannibal put away dishes, wiped down the counter and the tables and it wasn’t until the man was slipping on his coat that Will realized that he should probably get up.

“How would you feel about accompanying me to my home, Will?” Hannibal asked casually. Will fumbled for words, unable to verbalize how much he did actually want to do that. Before he could say yes, Hannibal had hooked his arm with Will’s and was guiding him from the bar, pausing briefly to lock up the building.

The walk was silent and Will felt uneasy in a way that urged him forward. He trusted Hannibal but at the same time he questioned what he was doing.  
It took him a moment to realize that they were already walking up a set of stairs. When Will looked over, the bar was still in plain sight. At least he was still somewhere familiar.

“It seems I only live a few blocks away from you.” Will observed as they entered the threshold of Hannibal’s apartment. It was elegant in a way you wouldn’t expect an apartment capable of being, but it fit the man perfectly with its delicate looking knick-knacks adorned elaborate shelves throughout the house, the furniture looked like it was taken straight out of a period film. Will felt comfortable here.

With the leftovers of his drunken haze still hanging over his eyes, he inspected the items on the shelves as Hannibal disappeared into what he assumed to be the kitchen. From its depths, he heard the elegant voice of his host calling his name.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the apartment. It was modern and pristine. There were gadgets that Will couldn’t even guess the use of lining the counter walls and a total of two whole spice racks. Will wasn’t even aware that many spices even existed.

When he focused, he noticed Hannibal watching him curiously. “Would you like something to eat?” He asked tenderly, as if revealing a very private part of himself. Will nodded.

It took minutes for Hannibal to prepare a snack dish. Crackers with smoked salmon, cream cheese, and what looks like it could have been scallions and capers blended together with some other ingredients that Will hadn’t been paying attention to. It tasted divine which Will awarded a quiet moan of pleasure. When he looked back over at Hannibal, the man was staring at him, an odd look on his face.

“Will, I have to admit that I have alterior motives.” He said, suddenly, setting the cracker in his hand back down. Will swallowed the food in his mouth, eyes narrowing. “And what would that be?”  
“You see, I have been watching you come to my bar for almost a year now and never once gathered the courage to talk to you. I always found you intriguing in a way the other guests are not. Perhaps it’s because I find you very attractive, perhaps it’s because you instill a great deal of intrigue in me. I would very much like to get to know you better. I would also very much like to kiss you.”

Will, chronically unsmooth, set his cracker down, wiping his mouth delicately. “I’m a detective, but I work part time giving lectures at the police academy. I have seven dogs which I pay a total of one hundred and twenty dollars a month to keep in my apartment. I have only three friends in the whole world. I have been coming to your bar for almost a year partly because you make wonderful, exquisite drinks, and partly because I find you mind-blowingly attractive.”  
And with that, he kisses Hannibal.

They both taste like fish and cream cheese, but neither really mind all that much. Hannibal, especially, seems to enjoy the taste of his own food in someone else’s mouth. They kiss against the counter, pressed tightly against one another, hands wandering under shirts and through hair. Will lets out a guttural moan when Hannibal takes a fistful of his curls and yanks, which Hannibal likes very much. He attacks Will’s neck like prey, biting and sucking it until it’s red and bruised. He presses a leg between Will’s thighs and Will wants nothing more than this, right now.

Hannibal rubs Will through his pants, breath hot against Will’s neck and he feels good for once. When Hannibal makes quick work of the button and zipper, it’s a relief as Will’s pants and boxer shorts are pushed down his thighs and Hannibal’s still fully clothed form is pressing against him again, this time with an expert hand stroking him like it was an art.

When Hannibal gets him to the point where he feels like he’s going to burst, the older man urges him to turn around, pressing Will’s stomach against the counter. The situation becomes suddenly very real and Will’s brain feels like it’s overheating. That is until Hannibal’s fingers brush hair from the nape of his neck before kissing it sweetly. Will barely hears the whispered, “May I?” but it melts every worry and anxiety that had been rapidly building and he nods.

Hannibal opens him up sweetly, slowly easing apart Will’s legs with gentle hands, fingers massaging Will’s ass as he allows the younger man to wet his fingers. The first push isn’t as bad as Will was expecting and by the time Hannibal has two fingers pumping in and out slowly, it doesn’t feel awkward and uncomfortable. It’s intimate and wonderful and his skin feels electric.

It’s sweet how careful Hannibal is being, but Will is more than ready and swats the older man’s hands away to communicate that, not able to properly articulate himself right then. Hannibal gets the message, however, and with the subtle but comforting rip of a condom wrapper, Hannibal is at Will’s entrance and WIll can feel his hands tremble where they rest at his hips.

“Please.” Will breathes, fists clenching as a shiver of his own shakes his body. Hannibal eases himself in before something in his breaks and Will is being fucked like he has never been fucked before. He can barely see and he’s pretty sure he’s being loud but he can’t really tell. His knuckles are white where they grip the counter and his eyes are clenched shut in an effort to focus on how wonderful his body feels right now.

After some beautiful moments, Hannibal pauses to pull out and help Will onto the counter so that they’re finally facing each other. Will kicks his shoes and pants onto the floor and hooks his leg over Hannibal’s shoulder before it begins again.

Here he can watch Hannibal’s face contort in the most elegant way, the sweat beading on his forehead look delicious and Will wants to lick him clean. Hannibal fucks damn well, and he’s beautiful as he does it.

They both come within a minute of one another. Will first, his head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream, and then Hannibal with his forehead against Will’s chest and breath heavy, occasionally letting out small sounds of pleasure, buried in Will.

It is the best fuck of Will’s life.

They fuck in the kitchen but wake up, however, in Hannibal’s bed about mid-day. When Will makes to leave, unsure of how long he’s overstayed his welcome, an arm drapes itself over his middle and pulls him in, enveloping him in comfortable heat. He tries not to jinx this as he hides his grin in Hannibal’s embrace.


End file.
